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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25426105">Moiraine and the White T... Glory Hole</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gqsa/pseuds/gqsa'>gqsa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Alleyway, Anal, Bath, Blow Job, Broken Mind, Bukkake, Collar, Crying, Deepthroat, Degradation, Dominance, F/M, Feet, Foot Fetish, Forced Prostitution, Gang Bang, Glory Hole, Hand Job, Insanity, Limes and lemons, Lost the final battle, Lust, Mental Illness, Mind Fuck, Objectification, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Porn With Plot, Post-Tarmon Gai'don, Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Public Humiliation, Rape, Sex Slave, Sexual Content, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Unconscious Sex, Word Porn, all fours, alley, beastiality, brunette, caged, cairhein, chocolate locks, choker, cum dump, dark smut, defiled, dog collar, dogwalk, hands and knees, hobo - Freeform, homeless, nose squirt, postAMOL, short skirt, slave - Freeform, strung up, swallow, wheel of time - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:47:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25426105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gqsa/pseuds/gqsa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarmon Gaidon has ended. The light has lost. Rand betrayed all who depended on him and now Moiraine rots in an isolated sex slave coup, fighting to maintain her sanity.</p><p>Hey! Drop a comment on what you liked/disliked, and kudos!</p><p>NEW CHAPTER!</p><p>Couldn't finish this story in one chapter, so broke it up into 2 maybe 3 parts. Enjoy the first of those!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Moiraine Damodred/Hobo, Moiraine Damodred/Thom Merrilin, Rand al'Thor/Moiraine Damodred</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A year after the Light lost Tarmon Gaidon, Moiraine still lived in the pool they threw her in. It took ten hours of meditation a day to maintain her sanity—something she’d lost several times so far, and could only hope she’d regained it. The only reprieve she had was that the liquid diet fed to her was delicious. It wouldn’t be long now before it arrived.</p><p>The delivery and her exercise were her only encounters with other people, and even then, she never really saw anyone. Her food was handed to her through a small window in the side of the two-meter-squared, head-height room. The people who exercised her used special access windows. They usually brought tasty snacks, so it wasn’t so bad. That was one of the few things she could look forward to, and it helped maintain her sanity.</p><p>The window unlatched.</p><p>It was at foot-level, so Moiraine, waiting cross-legged before it, had only to scoot back a bit. The window opened, letting in a chill wind that set goosebumps alight on her naked flesh. Through the window, a hand pushed a two litre sealed tub along with an empty mug. Moiraine didn’t interact with the hand. Her mouth was watering from just the thought of the musky scent she knew she’d get once she unwrapped her food. Besides, she had been stilled long ago, and biting the hand had only resulted in her having to exercise during her meditation time, too.</p><p>When the hand retreated and the window closed, Moiraine pounced on the tub, her stomach rumbling fiercely. She didn’t bother with the mug, pulled the lid off the tub, and stuck her face into it. The meal was particularly aromatic today, and that usually meant it would be pungent to her tongue. She couldn’t tell just yet, though, even though she was submerged in it up to her cheek bones. The gooey, white drink had more of an aftertaste than a taste. But that was fine. It allowed her to fully experience the smooth liquid, its uneven thickness a delight to the delicate sense of touch on the insides of her mouth. She swished it around behind her lips until the taste of wet carpets formed on her tongue. No. It was stronger today. The taste was akin to the scent of a wet dog.</p><p>And Moiraine loved it. Oh, if the food wasn’t good, even her meditation wouldn’t be enough to keep her sane. She lapped up her lunch, all two litres of it, unconcerned with her face and hair getting messed. They used the same stuff to wash her in her daily baths, so it didn’t really matter. She never ate the bath stuff though. Besides using it to clean herself, it also was a different colour. More grey than white, and smelled more of wet trolloc. She only ever considered eating it on days they forgot to feed her, and she still had never eaten it.</p><p>What they never forgot, was to exercise her, though. The moment she drank her last sip, licked the last tub corner, and sucked the remainders off her chocolate locks, a bell rang.</p><p>Moiraine jumped to her feet, almost hitting her head on the low ceiling. She only had seconds. If she wasn’t ready by the next bell, she’d have to exercise in meditation time, too! Moiraine stepped over her stiff blanket to the other side of the room where she got down onto her knees and pressed her mouth and nose to an opening in the wall. The leather flap accommodated her face, and lifted. Thick male hands held it up. She couldn’t see his face, but, through the little gap, she could smell those musky male odours.</p><p>It was time for her tongue exercises. If she could strengthen it, she’d sharpen her already razor-like, Cairheinin tongue. She got to work, sticking it out and flicking it up and down. They usually liked that. But, with this man, she wasn’t sure. He pinched her nose and shoved his penis in so forcefully, it went straight down her throat. Her canal didn’t offer any resistance. None of her canals did. Not anymore. Faintly, somewhere deep within, that thought… saddened her? She could vaguely remember a man far older than her in looks, toying with her, making her want it so bad, taking her to the edge with just his fingers, pushing her so far that she ground against him like mortar and pestle till she exploded in a blaze of glory all over him. He had said something to her then. Something about ‘do this right’ and a ‘wedding’. She had wanted to know more than what he smelled like, tasted like. She wanted to know what he <em>felt</em> like, inside her, deep within her most intimate place.</p><p>That man was a year dead now, and some other man she didn’t even know was inside her, throating her, still blocking her nose, suffocating her. And he was only using her mouth. A tease. They all just teased her—</p><p><em>SPLASH! </em>Moiraine heard and felt on her upper palate. Then a <em>whizz</em>—<em>whizz</em>—<em>whizz</em> as the penis contracted in her mouth, squirts of delayed jets spraying as she gasped for air. The man finished, wiped his penis on her lips, and pulled back. Moiraine did, too, breathing heavily, reorienting herself to her little room.</p><p>Then she promptly spat the vile ejaculation. They actually expected her to swallow that? It did smell and taste a little like her food, but still. She’d <em>never</em> swallow cum.</p><p>The bell rang again. Her next exercise was ready. She stood, turned around, and, bending over, pressed her bottom to where her mouth had been. The cold wall chilled her from her ankles, to her thighs, to her bum, which tightened.</p><p>A penis pushed against it, breaking through her clenched cheeks, and tipped her forward. She didn’t try to stop her fall. She knew she’d be held. There were hand holes on either side of her, and a pair stuck through them, grabbing her hips with as little care as a child would give to grabbing a used toy.</p><p>And used she was. His rhythmic stroking made her feel nothing. Gaping as she was, she should feel <em>something</em>. But there would be no blessings, not in a world ruled by the Dark One. The man went on with her ass longer than he had used her face. She knew it was the same man, not because they usually wanted to try each of her holes at least once, but because she could tell a man by the shape of him now. The distance down his length at which it expanded into his head, the position of his vascularity along the shaft, the way the angle he hung pushed on her insides, it was all second nature now and the exercise helped her train her mind and pass the time.</p><p>Sometimes, before returning to Moiraine, the men used other Aes Sedai like Nynaeve and Elayne next door. She tasted them just yesterday, on countless penises coated with feminine juices from their depths. It must have been a tough day for them, since every taste carried the flavor of Trolloc and vaginal infection. Hopefully they had been healed before bed. There was also a food court out there—she could smell ale and the like—and the men sometimes spent the whole day. Besides her ten hours of meditation, this was how she spent the remaining six hours of her waking day, so she might as well train her mind while she was at it.</p><p>A squish came from Moiraine’s crotch and softer, more delicate hands grabbed her hips. A sigh escaped her lips as the lips of her most intimate place expanded and sucked in a familiar cock. It was not the man who had taken her in the ass. She hadn’t even noticed that man finish. Now that she thought about it, she could feel seminal fluid leaking down the space between holes.</p><p>But, now, down there, she could feel the stroking of a large one. She knew this cock well. It came to take her every day without fail, from day one, from the day he gave himself to the Dark. The column of the dragon reborn had ravaged her time and time again, and each time he had, she got to feel again. Feel something that was reminiscent of the old days when she had hope. This cock she could imagine as that old fool who made her wait for a night of glorious marriage consummation sex, and then went and died on her. Yes, it was him exploring her depths. It was his penis with the head starting seven inches down the length, his raging penis with the two veins wrapping that head and six snaking up the shaft, his cock slightly hanging to the left, bending and rubbing the right of her pussy again—again—again—<em>oh Light, again, take me over the edge Thom</em>—his name was Thom—that was it; <em>Thom, I can’t hold back any longer, I’m going to cum, my hole is going to clamp onto your cock and never let you go, you hear me?</em></p><p>She was slamming her bottom against the wall now, in rhythm with the dragon. Her thighs and ass, slender as they were, jiggled each time they slapped the wall, rocking her, sending extra shivers through her body that wound her up, wound her to that point where no wall could hold the flood, not even the tightest clenching of her lady parts—that throbbed now with painful, piercing sensations from her edging until the dam wall shattered like glass in an explosion. The held-back waters burst forth, the piercing sensations peaking as if those broken shards embedded themselves into her clitoris and flowed around her pelvis each time she bounced against the wall, travelling deeper through her, shredding her insides, each and every cell lighting in a fire of excruciating ecstasy.</p><p>She fell face first, splayed on the floor, her hair about her shoulders, cum leaking from her vagina, tears in her eyes, toes clenched, body shaking. And when the bell went, she jumped again, but not from fear, but in the hope that she’d get to <em>feel</em> something again. Feel <em>that</em> again. She might be a used toy, but they could play roughly with her all they liked if she could just have Thom in her once again.</p><p>What was it time for? Her mouth. Yes, it had come full circle. She’d work her tongue extra hard to finish them fast. Then it would be pussy time again. Just thinking about it made her so excited, she clapped like a little girl as a penis made its way into her smiling mouth. This one’s shape was off, but the man had enthusiasm. He used the hand holes to grab her head and have his way with her face. He had the taste of Nynaeve on him, mixed with her blood. When he was done, another man used her anus, and then…</p><p>A different man used her sex. She stood there bent forward, idle, pouting, sad as the man did his business inside her and moved on. She grew more sorrowful over the next hour while a hundred and fifty or so men came in or on her—one offered some novelty, at least, lifting her nose up with his thumb, pressing his dick to her nostril, and ejaculating so much fluid, it leaked down her nasal passage and back into her mouth. She did not enjoy the novelty of tasting her snot. Other men caught onto the trend, and soon most every cock she ate came in her nose. Her nose! The particularly small men even tried to fuck it, attempting to fit their dicks up into her nostrils. She could smell a festering yeast infection on Elayne. Moiraine would feel a pang to Heal the girl, if she couldn't smell Rand's cum on her. He'd gone there. The remaining four hours saw a gradual speeding up of sessions as people hastened to return home to their wives. Moiraine’s creases and crevices pleasured some three hundred more men in that time, leaving her dizzy and drunk with baby seed. She’d not get pregnant, though. Rand had used the True Source to tie off, cut, and teleport out her ovaries and fallopian tubes. He had cooked the organs with Fire before her eyes, along with a sausage he'd gotten from Thom, and then fed it all to her as he christened her womb. The thought wet her eyes as much as it… made her wet down there, too.</p><p>Light, was she really sane? Had she lost her wits at some point and forgotten what possessing it felt like? She could hardly think. She was so tired, moving hurt despite her whole body being numb.</p><p>The bell rang</p><p>Moiraine jumped to her feet. The pleasure pain of her orgasm earlier was a tickle to her cells compared to the agony she felt from this burst of motion. But she had to move. Or she’d have to exercise for the next ten hours. She pressed her cheeks into the hole, resting a tired chin on the cum-covered lower half. It was squishy, cold, and gooey, like her lunch. That was comforting. Except that she’d only get to eat again tomorrow. Now that she thought about it, she got off over half a thousand men today, and not a one of the lot brought her snacks. Her stomach rumbled, and she found herself pouting.</p><p>Fingers pressed into her lips and face, and pushed her back with uncaring force. She fell back on her bottom, slick skin slipping a whole ruler-length back on the semen-covered floor.</p><p>She opened her mouth to yell, but stopped herself as she remembered the consequences of that. No. Moiraine was a good girl—</p><p>She was not a good girl! She was Moiraine Damodred, sane. An Aes Sedai. One who needed a bath. Her hands picked up the thinning stuff on the floor as she lifted them. <em>Urg.</em></p><p>“It’s time for my bath,” she said, pleasantly, in the overly formal Cairheinin accent they forced her to use.</p><p>Her face and hand holds sealed. “That’s what the bell was for, cum dump.” It was Rand’s voice, and the way he spoke, too, saddened her to tears as much as it enticed her to wetness. She was aching down there. Absolutely done. What was wrong with her? She pressed her hand to her crotch and clamped it with her bare thighs, shaking her legs as if it would ease the pain.</p><p>A black weave opened on the ceiling. A True Source gateway. It was many, actually. With two metres squared to work with, hundreds of thousands of little gateways were opened there.</p><p>The grey, wet-trolloc-smelling food-that-she-didn’t-eat fell from the ceiling like a sheet. A slab. Liquid crashing down upon her like a torrent, filling the room wall to wall, submerging her toes, ankles, calves in the gooey white stuff. It climbed past her hips, diluting and washing away the cum on her skin. The flow stopped when she had to tilt her head up and lift her nose to the thin remaining layer of air. She was almost fully submerged in the thick stuff, her chocolate locks floating in a circle around her on the sea of grey. The stuff was fresh, warm, and felt glorious to her fatigued body. It kept her skin silky smooth despite her living conditions. It really wasn’t that bad, even if it smelled like it came from a trollocs massive cock—she knew exactly how massive because they had made restrained ones take her, one of every animal type.</p><p>She sighed, letting her legs float up so that she floated on her back, her slimy toes peeping out of the surface. She closed her eyes, calming herself, getting into her meditative state of mind early. The bath would drain soon, once the thousands of eyes feasting on her through the gateway had their fill. She ignored them, just as she ignored the fact that she could end herself right now by jumping, letting the gateway cut and send her head in pieces throughout this Dark world of Rand’s. She just sighed again. She was Moiraine Damodred. Sane. And a sane Moiraine Damodred did not give up under any circumstances. They had lost Tarmon Gaidon, but as long as Moiraine Damodred still breathed, the Light was still fighting.</p><p>The bell rang, and Moiraine Damodred scrambed to her feet, her movements sluggish in the slime. That bell meant it was time for the bath to drain. As she felt the pressure shift from the opening drain, her tummy grumbled, and she’d not get to eat till tomorrow, if they even remembered to feed her. Plus, no one gave Moiraine Damodred snacks today. She pouted.</p><p><em>You know what? </em>She thought. <em>I didn’t really bathe today, so there’s little semen washed off into this bath. And this wet-trolloc-scent really isn’t </em>that<em> bad.</em></p><p>Rubbing her tummy, she dove down under, the viscous fluid filling her ears and replacing silence with a gurgling flow. She opened her eyes, and could see nothing but grey. She said <em>ah</em> and swallowed. Gulped. She couldn’t tell whether it tasted more like her lunch had or the hundreds of loads deposited on her tongue had, but it filled her stomach. Oh, how stuffed she was.</p><p>When it had all drained away, she crawled to her drenched blanket on the floor and snuggled up. She wouldn’t lose her sanity if she skipped meditation one day and slept instead. She was spent, after all, and there really was nothing like cuddling up with that hot, clammy duvet after her exercise. A sane Moiraine Damodred fell asleep to the comforting scent of wet trollocs, and had wet dreams of fists of them making her feel like a woman the way only the dragon re-Thom could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Colourful Coat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rand takes Moiraine for a walk.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Moiraine's chocolate locks draped on either side of her neck in the most delicate way when she crawled on all fours. Save for the choker, chain, and frilled black skirt that didn't even reach her anus, she was naked as the day she was born. She crawled through her home streets of Cairhein, leading like an excited dog.</p><p>She needed some agency after all those days strung up, so Rand charged her with sniffing out some suspects. Moiraine Damodred was good at finding people.</p><p>People were good at picking her out, too. Pedestrians very well knew she was the girl who had been born and raised here as their potential queen. Still, the looks she got… Rand thought he'd seen hunger. Homeless kids had nothing on the looks on these men's faces. They practically salivated as she crawled by them. Their wives watched, too, covering their own bodies with their arms, insecure. They'd not chastise their husbands till Rand was gone.</p><p>Little did they know their husbands had surely fucked Moiraine already. Gateways to the White Glory Hole operated in all major cities and villages. It was a right afforded to all Darkfriends—as long as they paid for their food, of course. The women were one thing, but you couldn't just provide food for free.</p><p>Moiraine climbed up one man's leg and sunk her fingers into the top of his trousers. His wife began to object, but looked at Rand's feet and kept quiet. Hmm. If Moiraine chose him then he could be... No, the depravity in his eyes, Rand knew it. He was a Darkfriend. Moiraine was off the mark.</p><p>"Uh uh," Rand said.</p><p>Moiraine had already pulled his pants down and held a solid cock in her hand. Mouth open and halfway to eating it, she looked back at Rand and pouted.</p><p>"No?" she asked.</p><p>"No. Go on."</p><p>She left the man as he was, got back onto all fours, and kept crawling. Meanwhile, the man watched her go with visible sadness on his face. He didn't even notice that his wife was already walking away.</p><p>“I’m hungry,” she said.</p><p>“You’ll get to eat, once you find someone I’m looking for.”</p><p>Moiraine picked up pace, and Rand tried to follow quickly so that she didn't strangle herself on the collar.</p><p>She turned into an alley and came to a stop at a ragged old man asleep on newspaper. He had long white moustaches and a coat stitched of multi-coloured rags. It was no gleeman's coat, but Moiraine didn't seem to be able to tell the difference.</p><p>She crawled up to him and nestled herself against his chest and rubbed her cheek against his like a cat.</p><p>Waking, the man's eyes widened and he reached behind himself. A rusty knife barely emerged before he realised a naked woman had snuck up on him. He dropped his knife, hand frozen in the air, uncertain what to do with it. That only intensified as he looked up and found Rand standing above him.</p><p>The hobo scrambled back, eyes wide.</p><p>Moiraine, curled up like a little spoon abandoned by the larger, raised her head, looking dejected.</p><p>"I've kept to myself, my Lord." The hobo wet his pants. "I haven't tried to convert anyone. Mercy. Please."</p><p>Moiraine looked up to Rand, and he gave her an approving nod. She found a Lightfriend. But Rand wasn't here to doll out punishment. He was here to remind Moiraine of who she was. There was no fun in enslaving the insane and powerless. There were plenty pretty faces for that.</p><p>No, he would have Moiraine back, to break again and restore the way the Wheel itself broke and restored the world.</p><p>Moiraine crawled to the man, who had backed up against a bin. She smiled coyly and leaned into his lap.</p><p>"What you got there?" she asked, gently laying her fingers on his soiled crotch, rubbing. “I’m starving. You going to fill me up?”</p><p>Though his crotch pushed her hand up—much to Moiraine's delight; she giggled girlishly—he looked at Rand as if to ask, "What's your game?"</p><p>Rand walked up to them and sat against the opposite wall of the narrow alley. Not being the one to fuck his Aes Sedai was some of the most exhilarating experiences he'd ever had. He'd over used them this last year and had forgotten the power of anticipation. So, today, he would watch.</p><p>The man watched Rand, too. Until Moiraine pulled his trousers down and grabbed the erect dick with both hands. The man was huge and dark of skin, and the contrast gave the motions of her fingers a mesmerising gracefulness. She played with the head, pushing the foreskin back, pulling it up, pushing, pulling, rotating, all the while maintaining a mild stroke at the base with her other hand.</p><p>A small percentage at the Glory Hole asked for hand jobs, but she serviced hundreds a day so she was one of the most experienced women in the world.</p><p>It was a wonder how this Lightfriend, one with no right to the Glory Hole, had not cum all over her yet.</p><p>It was probably because he realised what she was. It was not just Rand he feared, but Moiraine, too. Most the world over still feared the Aes Sedai, even when they'd put the fate off their world in the White Tower's hands.</p><p>Didn't get this man far. More than fear though, he looked at her with reverence. Didn’t stop the precum from leaking out and lacing her revered fingers.</p><p>“Mhmmm?” she said in a sweet, high pitched inquiry of satisfaction. She put her back into it. Her entire shapely upper body rose and fell with her strokes, which were sloppy now with the lubrication.</p><p>And that plastered a look of disgust on the hobo’s face. "You should be ashamed," he spat at Rand. "She's a hero of huma—"</p><p><em>GLUG</em>. Moiraine gulped the cock down and immediately put her neck to work in long strokes. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up at him earnestly as she sucked.</p><p>The hobo grit his teeth, head pressing against the bin. "Light..."</p><p>She smiled at that and rewarded him with her throat.</p><p>GLUCK GLOCK GLUCK. Experienced as she was she struggled to take all of him. Men of dark skin always gave Rand's girls a hard time. Still she forced her way down, pushing her head forward in increments and aiding it by wrapping her lips further down and using them to pull. Soon, she buried her nose in his pubes and took a deep breath.</p><p>Rand could smell the crotch stench from here. He cringed, but Moiraine smiled. She stuck her tongue out and licked the balls. Her throat had expanded enough to merge her jaw with her neck and it almost didn't look like her, but she was so gorgeous, especially on her knees like that leaning into a lap. Light, what a body. That little skirt blocked nothing, but he had to admit, it added something to the package. Even when it rode up to her waist and swayed there loosely as she rose and began throating herself.</p><p>"You should stop this, child," the hobo told her. "This is so far beneath you. And, who knows what I have down there?"</p><p>She clutched the gleeman-like cloak beneath her palm and, in response to his plea to stop... GLUCK <em>GLUUURG</em>, cough, GLUCK!</p><p>She went all the way down, he threw his head back, and she stayed there, making strangling, suffocating, gagging sounds as she endured, letting her reflexes massage the man to the edge. But he didn’t cum.</p><p>Oh this man was getting on Rand's nerves!</p><p>Rand leaned forward, grabbed Moiraine’s hair, and lifted and drove her head down repeatedly. Her gags intensified, choking and coughing, choking and coughing, snot and spit lathering the length’s sloppy travel all the way into and out of her face.</p><p>With an increase in pace that shook her into a Glugugugugugug gargle, the man finally exploded. His dick popped out of her mouth and shot her hair, the squirt sticking across several ringlets.</p><p>Giggling in excitement, she dove on him and took the cock back into her mouth before the second squirt. She kept her lips sealed till her cheeks expanded, then she swallowed in several large gulps as she sucked her way up the length, slurping the foreskin dry as she went.</p><p>She crawled forward and kissed him—he did not reciprocate—and positioned her hips over his. She took his cock and held it under her pussy, but the flaccid thing bent as she tried to sit.</p><p>She pouted.</p><p>This hadn't been as effective as Rand had hoped. She could at least have a little embarrassment at being humiliated before a Lightfriend. He'd have to find another way.</p><p>"Come now," Rand said, whistling for her to come as he stood up.</p><p>But she was holding her skirt up, grinding her hips against the man, pointedly on the side where his colourful coat sat between them.</p><p>The hobo just looked into her eyes with hopelessness as she danced. A common expression amongst Lightfriends these days. Perhaps Rand should be, too. Moiraine seemed lost for go—</p><p>Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched the hobo and fucked his colourful jacket.</p><p>A huge grin split Rand's face. This had worked. Grief for Thom was a solid sign. Rand yanked the chain.</p><p>She choked as the collar bit into her neck, and she fell over backwards.</p><p>Rand whistle called. "I said come on. Unless you want me to feed you Thom's cock again."</p><p>Moiraine looked up at him, the makings of both despair and a glare forming. It turned into a cool, level stare.</p><p>There it was. It was time to lead again. Rand clutched the handle and walked towards the exit of the alley as if she wasn't on the other end of the chain. There was resistance behind him, but she soon rose and matched pace.</p><p>Rand yanked her, and she lurched to her knees.</p><p>"I never said you could stand. Crawl."</p><p>She obeyed, one reluctant hand and knee at a time.</p><p>As Rand reached the exit of the alley, a large group of men passing by halted. They were all bulky men who clearly knew hard work. Immediately recognising him, they bowed, but some kept hungry eyes on Moiraine.</p><p>"You want her?" Rand asked.</p><p>"Can we? I really missed her these last few days at the White T—"</p><p>"White Glory Hole," his colleague politely finished his sentence.</p><p>Rand looked back at the welcome self-awareness and sentience in Moiraine's eyes.</p><p>"Yes, of course you can." Rand handed them the chain, then whistled to Moiraine. "Get to work."</p><p>The men excitedly crowded around her. "Who's a good girl?" one asked, petting her chocolate locks.</p><p>She glared, and Rand sat back down to watch, growing harder than ever before.</p><p>Experienced as she was, they still fucked her into unconsciousness, and then some.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What you got there?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sketch of Moiraine</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After her work away, Moiraine returns to the White Glory Hole</p><p>This one was a quicky. If there are any typos, I'm sorry, pretend they're not there until I have a chance to edit it. I usually do that before uploading, of course, but it's been a while and I wanted to share it. Hope you like it!</p>
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    <p>Rand made a gateway in the wall for Moiraine to pass through into her doorless room. He looked down and whistled her forward like a dog, tugging her collared neck by the chain.</p><p>Hands and knees bloodied--from crawling across the length of Tar Valon and being fucked along the way doggy style by men who had 'missed' her during her time away from the tower. Rand had not stopped walking all that way, so she'd been dragged by the collar many a time as men tried to hold and mount her. The ones who couldn't cum fast enough to keep up, or couldn't compete in the fights for her, just jacked of onto her as she passed. Women kicked dirt in her face. She had gotten used to the cum desecrating her skin, but all this filth and... blood.</p><p>The cobbled ground was just so so rough. She was a horrific scene, even now, crawling the White Tower's tiled floors.</p><p>With a second tug that set her coughing, Rand urged her into her room--one of the old novice chambers, the exits bricked off, with feed and multiple glory hole points cut into the walls.</p><p>Moiraine looked into that familiar male-reproductive-scent dumpster of a room and could immediately feel equally familiar ticks in her head urging her to play nice and see the cum-filled bowl in the corner as nothing but runny slop. What had she done to her mind to survive this place? With every fiber of her being, she wanted to climb onto that short table-bed below the glory hole and spread her legs. They'd not feed her that delicious food if she didn't. She crawled forward, already leaving a trail of wetness from her dripping pussy.</p><p>Rand caught her foot by the ankle. He looked disappointed.</p><p>"I'm ready!" Moiraine pleaded, trying and failing to pull her leg from him. "Please, I'm so hungry. I'll earn every bite, I promise--"</p><p>Of semen served in a bowl. <em>Accept the falsehood on your terms. Through controlled meditation. Do not let it become automatic.</em></p><p>Rand smirked, disappointment gone. "Good. I thought you had slipped back."</p><p>He let go of her ankle and stuck his finger straight up her sex. A sigh escaped her at the same time a cold shock ran through her. She hit the tiles face first, but the excruciating pain quickly evaporated along with the pain from her scraped palms and knees. As she shook there from both the healing and Rand's furious, sloppy-sounding fingering, she thought of another man in her, a man she had just earlier thought she had sucked off. It wasn't him, she knew now. Rand had shared her misunderstanding to the group who had gang raped her right after. They had found it so funny, asking her if she thought they were her lover, too, asking her how much smaller Thom was than each of them.</p><p>
  <em>My dear Thom. How could I ever have thought any of them were you?</em>
</p><p>The sensation that was building in her sex died.</p><p>Rand chuckled and slipped out of her. "You really are back. Hope you enjoy the stay, Moiraine." He gave her a firm slap on her behind, closed the gateway behind him, and then thousands of gateways appeared in her roof. Bath time.</p><p>It gushed from the roof in sheets, the thick grey stuff they bathed her in. 'Bathed'. It was more semen, in part. Stale, too. She'd figured out what it was earlier this year, which had made her add it to her list of things to alter her perception of via meditation. But it had been so vile, a part of her had still recalled not to eat it, no matter how hungry. She had failed and eaten it once.</p><p>Lightfriends like Lan and countless other soldiers--who had been ordered to surrender, for the battle had been lost with Rand's betrayal--who had survived the final battle were kept as slaves and playthings across the world. They were allowed only one privilege: curse their Aes Sedai who saved and doomed them to this life. Those survivors were milked for seed, bled for blood, fed for urine and gritty faeces and saliva and puke, and made to bath so that their filth could be washed into the mixture.</p><p>So much of that now poured atop Moiraine, she floated up towards the gateways in the roof. She felt sick. But she fought the urge to puke herself, or to slip into her delusion uncontrolled.</p><p>She would endure the suffering of her people. It had been her responsibility to save them, and she had failed. Then. One day, an opportunity might come. One day. For now, Moiraine floated, closing her eyes and beginning her meditation.</p><p>Before long, she was so glad to be back. Oh how badly she needed a bath. And she was starved! They always used the foodstuffs to bathe her with, so she said ah.</p><p>But as the grey stuff slipped across her tongue and she felt the slight grit—for her to scrub herself with, of course—something told her not to eat this. She would just have to let them exercise her so she could earn her dinner. And who knew, perhaps some of them would get her snacks this time instead of trying to make her eat their vile semen. Who would ever eat semen?</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sausages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Moiraine Whore Sedai's first fuck since returning to the White Glory Hole</p><p>Another quicky. Will edit the first chance I get!</p>
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    <p>Moments after her meditation on that very day, the bell rang and she scrambled up her table, sliding her lower body out the hole and spreading her legs up so her ankles could be cuffed. Oh how good that clamp felt. It gave her life structure.</p><p>Someone leaned on her foot as if it were a hand hold. "Look at that skirt," a voice said. "It's so short it's a wonder why they bothered putting it on her."</p><p>"It does give that feel like I've snuck a peek, though." This voice was deep and Moiraine could only guess the man was big and burly. "You had this one the last time. She's mine." Thick hands grabbed Moiraine's upper thighs and dragged her to the edge of the table. A buckle chinked and she immediately moaned. He thrust at her like a punch, and her whole body rocked back. He clutched her thighs harder—fingers leaving some kind of spice on her skin—and yanked her into him.</p><p>Again and again she rocked, her supple breasts tugging her skin as she was pulled and pushed. Familiar though this sensation was, she groaned, uncomfortable. Her thighs felt numb. He felt larger within her than the average man.</p><p>"These whore Sedais feel better than ever!" someone outside called.</p><p>"Yeah!" Moiraine's client replied. "This bitch is tight like she was just after Tarmon Gai'don!"</p><p>Yes. He was average, and <em>she</em> was tighter around him than usual... The Dragon Reborn had learned to heal away the experience in her canals. That discomfort felt like Siuan trying a finger too many. This was not much different from those days, Siuan cornering her in one of these very rooms. Siuan's boyish looks had always made the woman insecure, and Moiraine had always been the pretty friend who let the insecure one see what it was like to be a true woman. And nothing made one feel like a true woman than being taken and ravaged so thoroughly, one's wits disintegrated. Like she was being taken now.</p><p>This man might be average, but he was powerful. She hadn't even realised she was screaming her moans and clutching the table for dear life.</p><p>"You want snacks that badly?" he asked, voice tremoring in his effort.</p><p>She didn't even remember asking. Her body was on fire, a storm. A furnace, an electrical tempest. Light, she could hardly remember the man that had been so gentle with her, she could hardly remember him. Siuan's name left her lips instead. It must be the room, for she could remember staring up at that plain ceiling while Siuan mercilessly drilled her with too many fingers.</p><p>"Here's your snacks!"</p><p>"Not now!" Moiraine said. "Fuck me!"</p><p>"Too late!"</p><p>Her vagina expanded. A second length was forcing its way in. Smooth. It was unnaturally hot. It caused a burning sensation, too. She recalled the spice on the man's fingers. It was an actual sausage. The burning escalated. It spread to her pee hole, and that was 10 times worse and her cries of pleasure turned to screams.</p><p>"Hey!" Someone outside called. "You'll have to pay for that session if she needs healing earlier!"</p><p>"There's your pay!" Coins chinked on the floor.</p><p>He kept fucking her, holding that sausage in above his dick. A pressure formed below his dick. Another sausage shoved it's way in. The stretching, tearing sensations grew worse than the burning and she began to thrash.</p><p>A fist landed so solidly into her belly, she spat.</p><p>"I like a fighter," the man said resuming his thrusting. "But your shifts are extended if you misbehave, and I'd prefer if fewer men got you. What if they take another year to make you tight again?"</p><p>Moiraine mixed in moans between her coughs and groans. That burn was all consuming. Like it was corroding her pussy from the inside. A sausage, too... It made memories attempt to bubble to the surface. Memories she couldn't let surface if she were to serve as a whore Sedai. So she mixed more moans in, louder, some deep, some high, some breathy—he like the breathy one, and one of those combined with a third and fourth even hotter sausage forced in, he spilled a load with her so charged, it forced the sausages to shoot out of her. He bucked and bucked, making her body rock one, two more times, before he leaned on her torso with his elbows like she were the table itself. She bit her lip, enduring his weight. He was done, after all. Perhaps the next guy would be gentler. Yes, she'd like gentler. A part of her preferred gentler, a specific gentle man... It was hard to tell.</p><p>"Brutal," someone outside said. "Extra hot?"</p><p>Her client removed his weight from her and she lay there panting. What did she look like from outside, legs splayed open, her most intimate parts on display for people whom she couldn't even see.</p><p>No. Coveting dignity was a one way path to madness in a place like this. <em>Embrace the delusion.</em></p><p>She relaxed, and felt her pussy follow suit. Warmth flowed out, semen infused with spices, slimy but feeling like it was ripping her up.</p><p>"Extra hot," her client said. "Extra hot for the hottest whore here. I do like the one with the fucked up pussy lips though. Double extra hot for her when they bring her back."</p><p>"I can't wait till the Andoran queen is back. I hear the office she's serving nearly ripped her tits out last night."</p><p>Her client whistled. "Well," she felt two pats on her pussy, "I'm done with this one for now. It's all yours. Oh, wait!"</p><p>A pressure on her hole. Burning. One sausage. Two. Then the hotter two. A high-pitched sound collected at the back of her throat. Moiraine bit down, fighting the urge to thrash. Her toes clenched, and that prompted someone out there to lick them. With the last sausages in her, he pinched her pussy closed.</p><p>"Come here," he said. "Push them deeper with your dick."</p><p>"You sure? It looks like she's in pain."</p><p>"You a Lightfriend?"</p><p>"No..."</p><p>"Then fuck this bitch and turn those sausages into mince."</p><p>He penetrated her and started off gentle, but as the burning grew and bits of her pain slipped through, he began to chuckle. He fucked harder, and more of her pain showed in her struggle regardless of how much she tried to endure. That only got him more excited until he was fucking her like the animal the last client was. Cuffs bit into her ankles as her feet flapped and waggled wildly, the knuckles of her toes clicking as they hit the wall before her. His fingers left purple bruises on her pale thighs. His teeth left red bite marks all over her helplessly restrained calves. She felt it every moment his canines broke her skin, but that paled in comparison to when his savage thrusts broke the sausages one by one within her, releasing what could only be acid from chilli and pepper. With it, the burning sensations spread deeper and deeper. She hadn't felt this sorry for her womanhood since her first days in this place, the first thousand or so times she had been fucked by gross strangers. Not even when her ovaries had been cut, cooked, and fed to her. That at least had a practical purpose--spay her. What did the current fire in her pussy serve but to cause her soul crushing agony for the short lived amusement of another?</p><p>Light. The Creater must be the Dark One himself. There had to be nothing else if such suffering were enjoyable. If that were the case, wasn't there only one path for her to follow? The one she'd been on all this time had to be wrong—</p><p>No. She almost slipped over... Her delusion needed to be stronger. It would be dangerous, and she could lose herself to the whore Sedai for good, but at least she'd not have lost herself to the Dark One.</p><p>Moiraine began to moan <em>with</em> the pain. She fucked back, rocking, letting them use their dicks and her pussy like mortar and pestle. The sausages became mince and word spread that she was a snack whore. All kinds of things were shoved in her that day. Fool men used hot sauce as lube—protecting themselves with some kind of smooth fabric, of course. Others used fruit and made sport of how far each thing would pop out of her--quite far, thanks to her vaginal rejuvenation. The sugar in those fruit fast turned acidic and caused other lady issues these men would have no clue of, not that they'd care if they did. She cried several times throughout the day despite the soft chanting she hoped they couldn't hear between moans. She'd even had to catch herself praying to the Dark One a few times. But she endured.</p><p>When the last man came in her, when they bathed and healed her for the night, she vowed to never, ever ask for snacks again. A good whore Sedai didn't deserve treats.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. An Opening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Moiraine is punished for struggling, but finds hope in an unexpected place and person</p>
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    <p>Moiraine was punished. She'd thrashed so much while being tortured with spices, simply making her exercise more was not enough. They brought her out of her room--which they seemed more and more willing to do these days--and positioned her at the entrance of the White Tower.</p><p>Right next to the exit.</p><p>Her ankle was cuffed, of course. She knelt naked in the shadow of the door with her arms tired behind her back. They wouldn't leave her in the sun, not when her skin was part of her package. Not that she could tan. It had always been a sore spot with her, the fact that she instead turned pink in the sun and burnt.</p><p>What she give to drop down and worm her way into the light. It was just so chilly here, wet in the whistling wind.</p><p>Her punishment was to be penis cleaner for the month. Each time a man entered, she had to lean forward, tongue out, and prepare his penis for her fellow Aes Sedai. The problem was the sheer number of men who came each day, and more specifically, the number of men who had come for her. They just used her throat right there and left after finishing on her.</p><p>Didn't they feel the wind? Didn't they notice her shiver?</p><p>Besides those who came for her, many others decided to just use her instead and leave. If they were in such a hurry, perhaps they shouldn't be coming here. They had no self control.</p><p>Well, the Wheel weaved as the...</p><p>Moiraine sighed and stuck her tongue into another foreskin, cleaning up the grime and urine that had collected over the day--or days in most cases; these were not all men of regular baths. She did her best not to gag too often, but there were just so many men with so much grime. She hadn't realised just how busy the White Tower was.</p><p>In fact, with so many choosing to service themselves with her throat rather than just accepting cleaning, she'd become a bottle neck to the facility. No matter how hard she tried, she was not enough to admit all the visitors fast enough. She'd never taken so many before, several thousands a day she was sure, but they just kept coming.</p><p>Her poor sisters upstairs, having to entertain this onslaught day after day--</p><p>GLUG ug ug ug ug. A torrent of semen flooded Moiraine's mouth. With the cock smashing her tonsils to her throat, the thick seed burst out her nose.</p><p>She coughed and sniffled, but the next man--who had been focused on the stairs--ignored her cleaning and tried to replicate the effect. She snorted cum for the rest of the day. Her eyes teared and burned, they must be horrific to look at, bloodshot throughout. But the men often turned her head up when they were about to release as if the sight of her face could heighten their orgasm. It was mind numbing.</p><p>Moiraine did her best to remain sane. No convincing herself of any falsehoods to make things easier, not when she was this close to the exit. Even if she could hardly stomach the taste of these men.</p><p>The endless blowjobs worsened the bottleneck, and instead of returning her to her rooms for regular service, they brought down another woman. Morgase Trakand. Since bringing her from Caemlyn, Rand had put her to work in Moiraine's room while she was out. Now they pushed her to her bare knees, cuffed her foot to the opposite door, and guided half the line to her for cleaning.</p><p>The men of course tried to replicate the cum through nostril explosion. Many were successful, and soon Morgase's eyes were redder than her red-gold curls. She didn't tire from their abuse, nor did she even notice Moiraine, she just kept asking for Rand.</p><p>The poor soul. She'd never been strong enough of mind to handle the One Power with any aptitude, so maintaining her wits in this dark world was beyond her. But, that begged the question. Had Rand bothered stilling her?</p><p>Moiraine glanced past the cock in her face, past the endless line of cocks to come, and out the open door. That bright light... She may be kept in shadow, chained and used like a doll, but she'd gladly kneel and suck all month if it gave her an opening.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoy a fanfic, please leave a comment and kudos. It will make the author's day, and make this all worth their time</p></blockquote></div></div>
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